Not the first conversation they shouldn't of had.

[******* and **** lay in bed, post coital.]

"Tell me something."


"About you."

"You know everything about me."

"Oh, come on. No one knows everything about anybody."

"You do."

"You can't just tell me I'm brilliant and think that's the end of it. That doesn't work on me."

"That always works on you."



"...fine. Then tell me about her."


"You know who. ****. Tell me why you loved her."

"You don't want to hear that..."

"I asked."


"Out with it, mister."

"All right. I had just started puberty."

"How romantic." [eye roll]

"Hey, fine. You asked."

"No, no. Sorry. Go on."

"It wasn't anything... big. Like at 10 or 12 my voice didn't just start out squeaking, I wasn't like, hiding surprise boners or anything. All that Degrassi stuff didn't start until later. Didn't even really get zits right out of the gate. But I started to... on my nose, they were small, and like..."


"Is that okay? Mom called them that, but I thought it might be..."

"Oh, poor sheltered white boy. I think you're okay."

"Well. Anyway. I didn't care. I didn't even see them. But they drove my mom crazy. I mean, she really hated them, would like, corner me, hold me down if she had to, and dig her nails into the end of my nose until she'd gotten them all. It hurt like you wouldn't believe."

"Again. Such romantic imagery."

"Do you have any patience? At all?"

"No." [giggles]

"Fine. Fast forward, It was... we hadn't been going out very long. Puberty was long gone, but I still sometimes get, you know, the blackheads. Paranoid about it, self-conscious, I guess. And we're... me and ****, we're kind of close, not making out, but you know, maybe getting there, and all of sudden she's like 'you've got this thing' and starts after my nose. And all I can think is 'Oh my God, this is going to suck,' and I tense all up, eyes squeezed shut, and start going to that mother place, which is not a place you want to go with a new girlfriend."

"True story."

"Right? It's awful. But then I just hear 'got it.' And there it was, this little black... thing, on the end of her nail. No pain, not even an 'ew, gross.' She just flicked it off. And we went right back to... we kissed."

"And that's why you loved her?"

"It's how I knew I did."


[BEAT. **** straddles him, and makes a move towards his nose. Instinctively, he cringes away.]

"Wait, ****..."

[**** playfully touches the end of his nose.]

"It's okay. I know."

"It's just... you're not her."

"Like I said, *******. I know."

"But that's good. That you're not."

"Good save."

[They kiss.]

4 comments :: Not the first conversation they shouldn't of had.

  1. I like the way you tell this all through conversation.

  2. Thank you. Good dialogue is very important to me.

  3. and simple and simply honest

  4. I appreciate that, pw. I like to think "honest" and "fiction" aren't mutually exclusive.